


Fragmented Stages

by SaraJaye



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Five Stages of Grief, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mending Relationships, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25861849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: When his mother died, he thought he could bring her back to life with tears. When Glenn died, he embraced anger because other emotions were useless.Nine years later, he's finally ready to move on.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Kudos: 20
Collections: FandomWeekly (2019-2020) Writing Challenge on Dreamwidth





	Fragmented Stages

**Author's Note:**

> [Beyond the Sunset](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/hankwilliams/beyondthesunset.html) by Hank Williams, based on the poem "Should You Go First" by Albert Rowswell.

When they first brought Glenn's armor and sword home, Felix insisted there had to be a mistake because Glenn _couldn't_ die. He'd promised he'd be home after Duscur and tell Felix all about it. The truth didn't sink in until the funeral.

"He died like a true knight," Father said, and Felix struck him.

"Don't ever talk to me again! I hate you!" And he meant it, no matter how much the maid shushed him and told him he didn't, he was just emotional right now, he didn't know what he was saying. No, he said as he pushed her away, he knew _damn well_ what he was saying and he meant every word. He spent every waking hour in his room or at the practice yard.

He'd cried for days when his mother died of illness. At six, he'd believed that if he cried enough she'd hear him and come back to life. It was Glenn who told him that wouldn't work, but not to worry because she was still with him in spirit. _She'll live on as long as you remember her,_ he'd said as he held Felix and wiped away his tears.

At thirteen, he was no longer stupid enough to believe either of those things. Glenn was dead, crying was useless, and there were no such things as spirits. So he clung to his anger and hatred, of Father and Duscur and of knighthood.

When Dimitri was declared dead after Cornelia's coup of Faerghus, he was too numb to feel anything. For years after Glenn's death and their first battle he'd kept his distance from the boar, finding it easier to hate him and throw off all reminders of the gentle and carefree life that day had taken from him. But even then it was impossible to close his heart completely to someone who'd once meant the world to him.

While Father insisted the boar was still alive, Felix threw himself into fighting off the Empire out of obligation. Getting stronger no longer mattered to him, nothing did, the boar was _dead_. Like his mother, like Glenn, like the king whose ghost father signed his soul away to for the sake of _chivalry._

He hated chivalry, hated the Kingdom, hated that with the boar gone he was merely existing rather than living.

The boar came back, madder and more delusional than ever. He spoke to the dead as if they were still there, raved about collecting the Emperor's head as a tribute to them; even the return of that vassal of his barely made a dent. Instead, Dedue's presence just made him all the more determined to kill the Emperor.

Father died taking a blow for him, because of course he would, and one day the boar appeared before them without the gravestones strung over his neck. _The dead cannot return, and if I truly want to honor them, I must do right by the living._

The words struck such a chord with Felix he barely slept that night. All these years spent being angry at Dimitri for his obsession with appeasing the dead, but in his own way he'd hung onto them just as tightly through his anger, pretending he was only angry at the boar and at his kingdom's values when deep down, he'd never stopped being angry at the loss of Glenn.

He woke up before the sun rose the next morning, got dressed, and slipped off to the ruined cathedral. Closing his eyes, he quietly began to sing.

Felix hated to sing. He couldn't harmonize worth a damn, he hated being picked for choir practice, and he didn't think his voice was all that special. But he remembered this hymn from his mother's funeral as vividly as if it were yesterday, sung by his father in a deep, clear voice thick with emotion.

He sang for his father. For Glenn, for his mother, for King Lambert, for the part of himself that died along with Glenn. By the time he was nearly finished he realized he wasn't alone, a somber baritone he'd know anywhere joining him on the last few lines.

" _Beyond the sunset for ever more._ "

He couldn't help a small smile as he glanced towards Dimitri.

"Thanks. I guess we don't sound so bad together after all, huh."

"I had a feeling you might be here," Dimitri said. "I didn't expect to hear you singing, though." He sat down on a bench, patting the space beside him, and Felix joined him after a moment's hesitation.

"Thought it was time to practice what I preach, you know? Leave the dead to rest and all that." Dimitri reached for his hand and again he hesitated, not out of contempt but because after nine years of slapping Dimitri's hand away, did he have the right to take it now?

He did, though, because in truth the love for his friend he'd once declared dead was simply clinging to life, resisting his urges to snuff it out. Dimitri's hand was bumpy and rough but most of all warm, a reminder that part of his old life was still here even if things were different now.

"I miss them," he said quietly. Dimitri nodded, squeezing his hand gently.

"We always will. I know you don't agree with the notion that they're watching over us, but..."

"It helps you, doesn't it." He didn't agree, he'd never agree with anything that romanticized death, but he couldn't force people to stop believing what they did any more than he could bring back his mother with tears when he was a boy. Dimitri needed this, even if they both accepted the dead as dead. "I understand."

"And I understand you." Dimitri let go of his hand, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and Felix leaned into him. It shouldn't have been this easy to slip back into old habits, but letting go of past hurt made room for past joys to move in and take their place. He closed his eyes, burying his face in Dimitri's shoulder.

"Welcome home, Dimitri."


End file.
